Of Ants and Men
by itsnotmineifoundit
Summary: This is my first posting and it assumes that Katarina (Liz's mother) is alive. I hope to see her character play a big role in the show, and this is my interpretation of how she might react under these circumstances. :)


This is my first posting and it assumes that Katarina (Liz's mother) is alive. I hope to see her character play a big role in the show, and this is my interpretation of how she might react under the current circumstances. :)

* * *

 **Of Ants and Men**

The woman became more agitated each time she saw a repeat of the news story that had captivated the nation for the past two weeks. The story was being repeated each time news broadcasters returned from commercial breaks. It was a dramatic story, one that the ratings-hungry press couldn't have been happier to report. Never mind that peoples' lives could be destroyed. Everything most people once believed about "journalistic integrity" was laughable. If it meant ratings, the press couldn't have cared less about investigating or gathering facts. It was all about speculation and rumor and who could get it in print or on the air the fastest.

By now, everyone in the country had to be aware of the scandal. The most prestigious law enforcement agency in the world had been thoroughly humiliated by a young woman who couldn't appear less capable of scheming and outwitting the heretofore universally heralded members of the FBI. This unassuming young woman had single-handedly accomplished something that had undoubtedly been attempted many times since the agency had been established over 100 years ago. Surely many criminal masterminds had schemed and dreamed of infiltrating the ranks of the illustrious FBI. But this young Midwestern woman, who couldn't have appeared less threatening, had apparently expertly slipped through all of the strenuous screening processes one would assume the FBI had in place.

The FBI had actually unwittingly employed a woman who was sophisticated enough to plot and carry out the murder of the Attorney General of the United States.

As she watched the reporter interviewing yet another "anonymous" source, she shook her head in disbelief. It was simply astounding. All of the news reports indicated that Elizabeth Keene had been an exemplary agent prior to this event. She had reportedly graduated at the top of her class at the FBI Academy in Quantico less than three years ago, so she was a relatively new agent. Now the FBI brass was scrambling to repeatedly respond to the same question: how could someone capable of such a cold-blooded crime pass the notoriously rigid background checks necessary for an individual to even be considered for admission into the FBI? It was unprecedented in the 100+ year history of the famed bureau. They had never before openly admitted to allowing a traitor into their midst. It was interesting, the woman watching the news thought, that none of the rank and file employees of the FBI seemed to have anything negative to say about the woman or her work prior to this event. But the brass, those who were undoubtedly feeling serious heat over this obvious blunder, were happy to point their collective fingers at the woman who clearly was in no position to speak for herself. Who could blame her for running? There was no way one lone woman would stand a chance against the machine that was the FBI.

But it simply didn't make sense. Ms. Keene had achieved great things in her young life, but her accomplishments to date paled in comparison to the bright future that laid before her. At the young age of thirty, she was working for the penultimate employer for those who choose law enforcement as their profession. If most of the news reports were to be believed, she hadn't had an easy life. She had worked her way through college, paying for most of her expenses by clocking more than 30 hours a week. There were times when she worked late into the evening and then reported to class early the next morning for critical classes and even for exams. Still, her grades had been impressive enough for her to be accepted at Quantico. She had begun working as a profiler for the FBI and was then selected to join a special team that was tasked with apprehending some of the most dangerous criminals in the world. She must have felt like the sky was the limit as she moved to Washington DC and began her new assignment 2 years ago. That is, until that day a few weeks ago when she calmly lifted and levelled her gun at the AG of the United States and methodically pulled the trigger.

Why? What could she have possibly gained? This business about her being a spy for the Russian government was nonsense. The media cited "rumors" that the girl's mother had been an infamous spy for the KGB. They were implying that, in this case, spying was a career that had been handed down from mother to daughter. It was ludicrous. If it hadn't been such a serious situation, it would have been laughable. Anyone who knew anything about history was aware that the KGB no longer even existed. It had been disbanded years ago, following the end of the Cold War. No one was naïve enough to think that other countries didn't still employ nefarious methods to gather intelligence about other countries, particularly a super power like the United States. But did anyone truly believe that the Russian government had somehow found this young woman - in Nebraska, of all places –and somehow convinced her to turn her back on her Midwestern roots and her obvious desire to serve her country in some capacity of law enforcement. They had convinced her, instead, to con her way into the FBI. To join this thriving community of Russian spies, whose ambitious goal was to … assassinate the Attorney General? It seemed no one had asked the obvious question – exactly what would the Russian government gain by having the AG of the US killed?

This clearly intelligent, wildly successful young woman agreed to give up her dreams and turn her back on everything she knew, to help a foreign government assassinate a US official. Right there, in front of hundreds of witnesses and the usual television coverage that followed the movements of the AG. It was something even the FBI had not attempted to explain. As jurors were often reminded during criminal trials, a motive didn't have to be proven or even alleged. Facts were all that mattered in a criminal trial – and usually in the court of public opinion - Facts were facts. This young woman, according to the FBI, was a traitor to her country who had suddenly and inexplicably shot and killed the AG. That was that.

As she stood and walked across the room, the woman's elegant, fluid movements belied her age. One could have easily confused her for a much younger woman. Even now, she was as graceful as she had been all those years ago when she had danced for the famed Bolshoi Ballet Company. She had certainly lost a step or two since then, but nothing about her tight figure and seemingly ageless face would have given away her age. She was repeatedly mistaken for being much younger than her 55 years, and she was proud of this. She had always been a vain woman, because she understood what most women didn't know or wouldn't admit. Beauty brought favor. Everything in life was easier for a beautiful woman. Sadly, youth was also valued, and one could do nothing about the number of years they lived. But, as she firmly believed, a woman didn't have to age "gracefully," as the ridiculous ads, undoubtedly penned by men, asserted. She had fought the signs of aging every step of the way. It hadn't been easy, especially given the kind of life she had lived. She hadn't always been housed in luxurious hotel suites, such as the one she now occupied. She peered through the blinds at the people passing on the street below. They moved as though they were in such a hurry. For what? she wondered. Did anything they did really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Of course not, she sneered silently. They were no different from a colony of ants, moving about to gather dirt and carry it back to form a mound. A mound which would be ruled by the queen. She smiled. It was as it should be. The difference between ants and humans was that each individual ant was well aware of his own role. He served at the pleasure of his queen, or he was destroyed. He didn't fight that truth; he accepted it and worked hard to make his queen happy. Men, she thought to herself, would do well to learn from the ant community.

As the sound of the voices on the television again entered her consciousness, her agitation slowly turned to anger. Elizabeth Keene shouldn't be in the position of being hunted by the very authorities with whom she had so recently worked side by side. Someone had clearly failed her, and there was no doubt who that was. One person was responsible for this debacle - this hell that had once been a quiet, happy life for Elizabeth.

Raymond, she seethed, pacing in front of the television. The mere thought of him caused her temperature – and her ire – to rise. How dare he allow this to happen? He was supposed to look out for Elizabeth, to assure that she never wound up in any kind of trouble, especially the illegal kind. He had failed miserably. And he would pay dearly for it.

Not unlike the queen ant, she was not one to tolerate sub-par performances from any of her ants. That included the arrogant, sanctimonious, narcissistic Raymond Reddington. With a sudden movement, she reached into her closet and pulled out her red leather trench coat. She slipped into it effortlessly and tied the belt at her waist before pulling her long, brunette locks from beneath it and shaking them to fall loosely around her. The waves framed her face beautifully, even now. She glanced in the mirror on her way out of the room and paused briefly to flash an approving smile at her reflection. It was a smile that failed to reach her eyes. Instead, the desire for retribution burned brightly in her deep royal blue eyes.

She left the room, allowing the door to close loudly behind her. As she walked toward the elevator, the approving glances of several men she passed in the hallway were wasted on her. While she wasn't one to ignore the opposite sex under most circumstances, she was focused on only one thing. Raymond Reddington would rue the day he had failed to protect the daughter of Katarina Rostova.


End file.
